Haunted Moon (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #13)

Haunted Moon (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #13) Page 39

Morio leaned up against my back, wrapping his arms around me, moving with me as the drums led us deeper into the labyrinth of the sacred night. And then the horns trumpeted as Titania, Aeval, and Morgaine made their way down to the commons. They were followed by Bran, Mordred, and Arturo.

As they passed, their people bowed low, honoring the queens, honoring their power and lineage and strength. I knelt at Aeval’s feet as she stopped before me.

“Rise, my child. You and your priest accompany me.” And so I rose and took hold of my staff. We followed as they passed out of the common area, into the undergrowth. Tonight, the forest seemed to part for us as we walked through, and we made no noise, silently gliding through the woodland.

The echo of the drums followed us, and as we journeyed, animals joined in at our heels. A stag, pure white, followed Morio, and several stray cats cloistered at my feet. An owl flew down to land on Aeval’s shoulder, and a raven perched on Morgaine’s shoulder. Titania held out her hand and a mountain lion crept out of the bushes, padding softly by the Queen of Light and Morning.

As we continued deeper into the forest, the moon rose full and silver above us, and I caught my breath. I could feel the Moon Mother over my shoulder, calling me. Tonight was the Hunt. I’d never missed a Hunt since I’d been accepted into her order as a witch, and now she was riding me hard. The urge to let go and fly with her was almost too strong to bear.

I was fighting the pressure when we broke through into a clearing—a Faerie ring, with fly agarics the size of my fist encircling the meadow. In the center, a fire crackled, kindled from the nine sacred woods. The smell of yew was strong in my nose, and I felt so deeply at home that it scared me. My roots had grown in strongly during my time out here at Talamh Lonrach Oll, and I realized I could breathe here. I could let down my hair, let out my worries, and focus on my connection with my lady.

Aeval stepped into the Circle, and Titania joined her. Morgaine stayed outside with us, waiting. Mordred and Arturo backed away. Bran came close but did not cross the line.

Aeval walked up to the fire and then turned. She tapped her staff three times on the ground, and a sound like thunder raced through the clearing. The next thing I knew, Derisa was standing there. High Priestess to the Moon Mother. The woman who had taken my oath when I first pledged as a witch, and the woman who had again taken my oath when I pledged into the Priestesshood. They kissed one another on the cheek, and then Derisa kissed Titania, who stood to one side, tall and regal, glowing like a memory of sunlight in the depths of the night.

A gust of wind blew through, the scents of violet and narcissus, of peach and musk and newly mown grass filling the air. I fell into the fragrance, letting it buoy me even further away from the events of the past days. It ran through me, a series of little explosions, like foreplay.

Aeval and Derisa motioned to Morgaine, and she entered the Circle. She slowly walked up to them and knelt at their feet. I wondered how much that cost her pride, but she said nothing, just kissed their hands as they extended them. Morgaine gave one glance back at me, and I saw the jealousy in her eyes, but she said nothing. She stepped over to the fire and waited.

And then Derisa turned to Morio and me and motioned us in. We both stepped forward, and when we reached her side, we knelt. I kissed her hand, then Aeval’s, and Morio followed suit. As I stood, Derisa smiled and kissed me, long and deep, so that I was swirling in her passion.

“And so, once again we come to a turning point, my lovely Camille. You are priestess, yes, and doing well in your training, but there is another step you now must take. You will eventually become the High Priestess of the Dark Mother, even as I am High Priestess of the Bright Mother. Before you can begin to train toward that direction, you and your priest must show your courage and lead the Hunt.”

Lead the Hunt?

I swallowed. I knew that running at the helm of the Hunt was reserved for the bravest warriors and those in the Moon Mother’s favor, but that was about all I understood. I’d always run with the other witches, and then—the past few months—the other priestesses.

“What do I need to know?” I asked.

“The question is not what you need to know, but what you’re willing to do and to face. Tonight will test you, both of you.” Derisa stepped back as a distant baying echoed from the sky. “The Moon Mother, she comes.”

Morgaine reached up, her eyes glassy, and I recognized that stare. “You run with the Hunt?”

“I am a daughter of the moon, even if it is over here, Earthside,” she said, smiling softly.

I gazed up at the heavens. The baying of hounds was louder, and behind it the shrieks of night birds echoed, along with the thunder of running feet, the pounding of drums, and a cadence of song, in a language long forgotten, by women who could weave magic with their voices.

First came the Moon Mother, a silhouette in silver, with a bow and quiver slung over her back. She was beautiful and luminous, and her energy called to me, beckoning like a lover long lost. Behind her came the bears and panthers, the stag and wolf and all animals who raced under her open skies.

Morgaine was crying now, and I realized that I was, too. I reached up with one hand to the Moon Mother, my other hand firmly grasping Morio’s. He said nothing, but his eyes were wide. As my lady passed, the song and drum growing louder, she reached out and caught hold of my hand, pulling both Morio and me onto the web, into her wake.

As we jumped, landing on the astral with her, I gazed up at my beloved Moon Mother. She had come to me when I was bruised and beaten in Hyto’s lair, and while she could not free me, she’d taken me out, taken me off to tear up the world while he abused my body. She’d wrapped me in her arms, and kissed my tears, and offered me solace.

And now she bent down from her terrible height and brushed my lips with her own, and then she kissed Morio, and her eyes were gleaming with silver light even as her body thrummed with a magnetic pull.

“Welcome to the Hunt,” she whispered to Morio, and her words blew down a tree and swept across lakes, churning the waters. Turning to me, she cupped my chin in her hands and smiled. “So you join the dark paths of my order. Do not fear the word—fear only the misuse of it. But now, face the Hunt. For you will lead tonight, and I will follow.”

I stared at her. How the hell was I supposed to do that? I turned back to look at the stream of figures behind me, so vast it was hard to count, all of them waiting for my next move.

Skeletal riders astride skeletal mounts, with their eyes gleaming fire, waited. Hunters and warriors, priestesses—Morgaine among them—and witches. Wild feral spirits from the woodlands who came out to play in the night were poised, along with the animals over whom the Moon Mother watched. All of them watched me. If I wasn’t confident, they would turn on me. They were loyal to their goddess. I had to earn their trust.

I stared at them. Would they listen to me? Would they laugh at me? Would I disgrace myself in front of my lady? And then I saw Derisa. She was standing behind the Moon Mother, to her right side. And I realized that she, too, had undergone this ritual. She, too, had led the Hunt in order to take her place as the Bright Mother’s High Priestess. If she did it, then I could.

And that was when I noticed the staff in her hand. It matched my own, only instead of yew, it was made of oak. As I watched her holding it, I realized that her staff was awake and sentient.

I glanced at the staff in my own hand. “Wake up. I need you,” I whispered.

It quivered.

“I command you, wake and help me lead the Hunt.”

The crystal orb atop it glimmered and began to shine. A spark within the staff swirled, racing down through my hand, and I let my head drop back as it wove its way through my body, infusing me with a fiery strength. But it wasn’t the fire of the open flame—no, it was the fire of the will-o’-the-wisps, the fire of the eye catchers, the fire of the sparkling lights at night. Dark Faerie fire, and it integrated itself into my nature, shifting me, changing me, transforming me.

I turned to Morio and pulled him close, kissing him deeply. “Happy Beltane, my priest. Are you ready to run at my side, to run with the Hunt?”

He nodded. “At your command, my priestess.”

“Then let’s get this show on the road.”

I curtsied to the Moon Mother, and to Derisa, and then, turning to face the open sky, I leaped ahead into the void, thrusting my staff into the air, and we were off. With a shriek that echoed through the forests all over the world, I led the Hunt, deep into the Beltane night.

I raced through cloud and open sky, through the stars, under the glowing orb of the Moon, and behind me, the Hunt swept on, the Moon Mother at my side, as we tore up the night in mayhem and madness.

We rampaged through the country, sweeping through the astral and spirit planes, diving into the world of mortals as we passed over the deep, dark forests to catch up the valiant spirits of the dead who belonged to the Hunt—both animal and mortal. We ran on and on, breathless, mindless, caught in the chase as we terrified those who could hear our horns bugling through the night, until morning came, and once again, our feet touched the earth.

Chapter 20

A week later, Menolly, Delilah, and I were sitting on a blanket by the shore of Birchwater Pond with Maggie by our side. Everybody else was scattered around. Vanzir, Morio, and Roz—who had healed right up once we’d gotten him home and into the loving care of Hanna and Iris—were playing Frisbee.

Smoky was high in a tree, keeping a watch over the land, Bruce and Roman sitting beside him. Shade was helping Iris and Hanna grill the hamburgers. Trillian, Nerissa, and Shamas were setting the picnic tables with all the fixings for burgers and hot dogs. And over in a quiet glade, Chase was walking hand in hand with Sharah.

And in a strange quirk, we’d added to our guest list for the night. Wilbur, working his crutches and trying to get used to his artificial leg, was sitting on a stump next to Ivana Krask. The two were talking. I really didn’t want to know what they were saying, especially since Rodney was there, along with Martin, and the gruesome quartet seemed deep in conversation. Well, Martin wasn’t doing much talking, but he was behaving himself, at least.

I leaned back, staring at the stars that littered the twilight sky. We’d found three more spirit demon eggs and taken care of them. The Supe Community had taken over the mansion owned by Halcon Davis—it was cheaper than continuing to pour money into the hall they were trying to rebuild. Syringa, the wife of Lord Faerman, had come out of her stupor, and most of those who had fallen prey to Halcon Davis and the Aleksais Psychic Network were being treated on an outpatient basis at the FH-CSI.

Wrapping my arms around my knees, I looked over at Menolly and Delilah. “One spirit seal left to find.”

“That’s not going to win the war, though.” Menolly was swigging out of a thermos. Morio had made her watermelon-flavored blood. “Let’s face it, we just won a tremendous battle, but look how long it took, and how much it cost us. Do you really think Shadow Wing doesn’t have anybody stronger than Gulakah? And do you think he’s going to wait long before sending that person—demon—whatever, our way? Someone to pick up with Telazhar?”

“Or worse…we know they still have two of the spirit seals.” I gazed out over the placid pond. Sometimes the depths of the most gentle-looking surface held demons. The memory of being in Gulakah’s mind, and then locked with him there at the end, wouldn’t leave me alone. I’d been having nightmares in which I was caught in the violent sea with him, and he kept pulling me down, below the surface.

Delilah reached out and took one of Menolly’s hands, and one of mine.

“Whatever happens, we meet it together. We have a small army of our own, and it keeps growing. The Supe Community Militia have proven their worth.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I know. But now that the general populace knows about zombies, how long before they begin finding out about some of the more nightmarish aspects of what they thought were myth and legend? They reacted pretty good-naturedly to us, because we aren’t a big threat. Except to the hate groups. But what if they find out about the demons?”

“Panic, mayhem…but I guess we deal with that if—and when—it happens. Until then, we do our best, we tend to our loves, and we enjoy what we can. Because there’s never any guarantee that tomorrow will come.” Menolly leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Let it go for tonight?”

I nodded, pushing the worries out of my mind. Menolly was right. The demons might be hiding in the shadows, but right now we were alive, and we’d found another spirit seal, and we’d killed a god. We were surrounded by family and friends and loved ones. Considering what we were up against, it couldn’t get much better than that.

“Who’s that?” I asked, pointing to a figure who was walking out of the forest.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I asked him if he’d like to come,” Delilah said. She smiled. “I thought maybe it would be nice to have him here when we aren’t worrying about some battle.”

“Who…” But as I stood, I could see who it was. Sephreh—our father—and for once he wasn’t wearing his uniform. He raised his hand to wave, and I realized he was really here. He’d come to join us. A smile broke over his face, and my heart warmed. My father was back. Maybe not the same as before—but perhaps it was for the best. We’d all learned a lot in the past six months.

An owl hooted softly in a tree as the waves lapped against the shore of the pond. Menolly, Delilah, and I joined hands and, carrying Maggie, hurried over to greet our father in the deepening night.